The Walking Dead: Ohio
by JaredBrown
Summary: *'The Walking Dead: Ohio' takes place in the same universe as the TV show* In a post-apocalyptic world filled with "walkers" and danger looming at every corner, a colorful new cast of characters face the ultimate challenge: survival.
1. Things To Come

**The Walking Dead:**

"**Things To Come"**

**Season 1, Episode 1**

* * *

A man in his mid-twenties was lying prone on top of a green hill in the middle of the Illinois reservation that he and his twin brother were camping on for the past week. His vision was obscured with a cloudy white fog that made it seem impossible to hunt. To make things worse, rain poured down through the trees, further clouding his vision.

He withdrew a cigarette from its pack and placed it in his mouth. Slowly reaching for his pocket, he pulled out his flip-top lighter and sparked it. He attempted to light his cigarette, but the rain put out the flame before he was able. Sparking it again, he managed to light it. A heavy inhale calmed his nerves, and his mind felt clearer. In the thickets below, he heard a rustling. Instinctively, he took aim.

A deer emerged from the bushes. It, as if sensing the impending danger, lowered its head and trotted over to a large puddle, where it lapped up water. The man inhaled again, and let out a soft cough. The deer's ears perked up.

"S**t." He thought.

The sound of a gunshot reverberated throughout the woods. The man sighed and looked in the direction of the gunshot. A second and third gunshot followed, and the deer fell over.

His twin stood up from another vantage point and walked over to his twin.

"What's the matter with you, Marco? Can't take the shot because you're too busy lighting your cigarette?" His brother chastised, still walking closer.

Marco rolled over on to his back and stared at the gloomy gray sky. He spit out his cigarette and sat up.

"I didn't want to shoot it." Marco confessed.

"That's what we're up here for!" His twin exclaimed, angrily.

"I know, but," He paused, "He looked so peaceful drinking."

"Yeah, well. Next time try to remember why we're here. If I wanted to watch animals, we would be at a zoo." Came the stark reply.

Marco sighed and looked through the fog to the deer.

"After we get this thing, we need to pitch our tent and call it a night Jose."

Jose grunted. He wanted to get more than one deer, but the light was fading away quickly. He nodded in agreement as the two bagged the deer.

After they had moved the deer to Jose's pickup truck, they pitched their tent into the mud and climbed into their sleeping bags. Marco tried to sleep, but a feeling in his gut kept him awake for hours.

* * *

The sun rose brilliantly through the now clear sky. Two-hundred miles away, a girl sat on a wooden fencepost in the middle of an apple orchard, eating an apple. She was humming to herself a tune. She hopped from the fence and continued to pick apples. Inspecting each, carefully, she threw them into a duffel bag. She smiled to herself as the bag was filled as much as it could be. She slung the bag over her shoulder, and headed towards the cabin. Around her waist, a katana sat inside its sheath; its blade was as sharp as a razor.

She was a very pretty girl with bright red hair, which was drawn back to keep it from getting in her eyes with a camouflage headband. Her eyes were luminescent and reflected the sun, which made them appear to shine. Her clothes were dirty, but remained untorn.

She entered silently into the cabin through the back door with her hand on her sword.

"Anyone here?" she whispered, loudly enough to be heard.

She stepped into an empty kitchen. She looked into the pantry and cupboards, but found that they were all empty. A lone jar of peanut butter remained on the counter next to an empty box of crackers. She picked it up and opened it, but it was as empty as the cupboards. She sighed.

A creak came from the ceiling, and she focused again. She walked into the den. It, she noticed, was a complete wreck. Furniture was overturned, books littered the floor, and none of it seemed like it was of any use. Still, she picked up one of the books on the floor and examined it.

The book was a very dirty paperback copy of "Angels and Demons" by Dan Brown. The pages were worn, and it looked like some were missing. She inserted the book into the already full duffle bag without thinking and proceeded into a corridor.

She set the duffle bag down at the beginning of the narrow hallway and unsheathed her sword, just in case. She walked down the hall and looked in each room, making sure it was empty. The first room she came across was a bathroom.

She entered and opened the mirror compartment above the sink.

Jackpot!

Around fifteen bottles of assorted prescription medication were sitting on the shelves. She wiped the sweat from her forehead. Then, after sheathing her sword, picked the bottles up from their hiding spot and walked to put them in the duffle bag, in between the spaces that the apples created.

As she bent over, sliding each into her bag, she heard a familiar growling noise that gave her goosebumps. Terrified, she turned around.

Her heart raced at the sight of the reanimated corpse. Panicked, she fell backwards onto the hardwood floor. It was moving closer, and she scooted back until a knocked over bookshelf blocked her from moving further. The monster was letting out snarls and hissing sounds, stalking her.

She closed her eyes and covered her face, as if bracing for pain. A tear escaped her, but she was unable to make a sound.

A second later, a quiet whistle sounded, followed by a thud.

She opened her eyes, and saw an arrow sticking out its now dead-again head. She took a deep-breath and let out a sigh of relief, before she was overwhelmed with fear at the realization.

"What're you doing, off on your own?" A man's voice, called to her.

The man stepped up over the bookcase, entering the den.

"Son a b**ch almost got you. You're lucky I saw you. You'd have been a goner." He said before withdrawing the arrow and inserting it back into his quiver.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I should be asking you that. This is my orchard. I'm Dan Whitebrook, and you shouldn't be here."

"I thought it was abandoned." She replied, honestly. I was just looking for medicine and other people.

"It was abandoned… for a reason. Two nights ago we had a whole mess of those geeks drive us out. They've gone now. I only came back for my brother's heart medication and my rifles. I'll be taking the medicine back, by the way."

"I was just trying to think ahead." She said.

"That's alright. You didn't know, but you need to be more careful. They are everywhere. If you let down your guard like that again, someone might not be there to save you."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"I notice you have a sword. You should put it to use." He said with slight aggravation.

"To be honest… I've never had to use it. My mother bought it for me… before all this. It's all I have, aside from my bag."

"Where is your mother? Do you have any other family or a group or anything?"

"I don't know. It's just me. I've been living alone in my treehouse. There were more of those… things… near my house. I grabbed what supplies I could, which, weren't much. I've been coming here over the last two weeks to pick apples – I think – and it was only today I saw the cabin."

"You ate multiple duffle bags worth of apples in two weeks?" He asked, noticing a hole in her story.

"Well. The first few times I only took enough for me. I thought other people would come and pick what they needed. But I can't go back to my treehouse now… So I brought a bag this time."

"Makes sense. It's good to think ahead. What's your name, anyway?"

"Ashley." She said, quietly.

"Well, Ashley, I think you should come with me. We've got a group about… fourteen or fifteen strong. They can protect you, and you can help us in return. Strength in numbers… you know?"

Though she felt oddly uncomfortable at the man's request, her brain convinced her that this option was the best and least dangerous of all that were available. She didn't want to find out what he might do to her if she refused. After all, she was there to steal his things – even if they had been abandoned.

He scavenged the house for his guns, and loaded them into his red cavalier. The car was a bit of a clunker, she noticed, but now was not the time to care about that.

The car started, and began to roll onto the road, towards camp...

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Down The Road

**The Walking Dead:**

"**Down the Road"**

**Season 1, Episode 2**

* * *

Marco arrived at the top of what he surmised was the peak of the reservation. Day had not yet broken the darkened sky. He had his rifle behind his neck and over his shoulders, and he was looking over the tree tops to the horizon. Of course, he had the safety on. His brown eyes hid behind his long, black hair. He had a slight beard, and was very skinny. His skin was a light-brown colour, which made his Hispanic – Guatemalan to be exact – heritage quite apparent.

As he stared into the distance, he felt the rain return and fall down. It felt cool, and his clothes and hair were soon drenched. He reached into his pocket and withdrew another cigarette, and placed it between his teeth. He started to reach for his lighter when a streak of lighting cracked the darkness and illuminated the surrounding area. Thunder followed shortly after. Suddenly, he felt weak. The cigarette fell from his mouth, but he did not attempt to recover it. He had severe brontophobia, and in his tired trance, had neglected the warning signs.

His first instinct was to hide behind a large tree, but, realizing this made him more of a target, he started to shuffle his way back down the hill and across the trail back into his tent.

The sun was rising in the direction that he was walking, so he found that, despite the storm clouds, the path was slightly easier to see than when he followed it blindly just a few hours ago. He liked exploring new areas, and camping was one of his favourite hobbies. In fact, he didn't particularly like hunting at all. He knew that he was an accurate shooter because he practiced shooting cola cans in his backyard over the years, further and further distances. He had even gone to gun ranges and shot at targets, but something about taking the life from an animal rubbed him the wrong way. On the other hand, his brother found that the exploring parts of camping were the boring ones, and that the action was where the fun was.

Marco was pleasantly surprised when he saw a few rabbits through the trees, sleeping inside the hollow of a log. He smiled, and continued to trot downwards, ignoring the echoes of thunder rumbling in the distance.

It was at this moment that Marco's heart dropped. He saw a fox on the ground, mutilated. Fresh blood was pooling out of its wounds. The wounds, he noticed, were not gunshot wounds, but were too obscured by fur and blood to tell what they were from his distance. He felt two powerful emotions: anger and sadness. He walked more quickly, and with a great rage building up. He opened the tent up, and glared at his brother, lying in his sleeping bag.

"JOSE!" He yelled

"What?!" He awoke with a panic, having been startled by the sudden outburst.

"How could you do that?!" Marco cried, while leering at Jose.

"Do what," He started, "Sleep?" He asked, rubbing his eyes in annoyance.

"Desecrating that fox!" He answered, angrily at his brother's irritated reply.

"Desecrate… what fox? What are you talking about?" He asked, now angry that at his brother's accusation and piqued by being awakened.

"Liar!" Marco shouted. "It's less than thirty meters from the tent and we're the only ones up here!"

"Dude. They're called bears." Jose said, condescendingly.

"It wasn't a bear."

"How do you know?" Jose's patience was growing thin.

"I know! A bear wouldn't leave an entire fox bleeding to death!"

"Are you okay, Marco? I haven't killed anything since that deer yesterday. I promise. Relax." His tone changed as he noticed how upset his twin was.

Thunder cracked the sky again, and Jose stood up from his sleeping bag. He stretched, and rubbed his eyes. He left the tent so he could do his morning business.

Marco was about to say something, but he heard a noise coming from outside of the tent. It sounded like a branch or a twig snapping underneath someone's feet. Angrily, he realized that whoever was walking around was the one responsible for the fox's mutilation. He took his rifle from behind his shoulders and unlocked the safety. Exiting the tent, he looked for the source of the sound.

A low moan was just audible, but was covered by the sound of thunder. His eyes shifted in the direction of the sound, but could not make out anything through the brush and trees. It sounded out again, and Marco saw where the noise had come from. He raised his rifle, cautiously waiting for another movement.

"Alright, that's enough. Come out you sick ba***rd, stop hiding!" He yelled, unwittingly revealing his position.

Marco saw a man stand up and slowly start walking towards him, but his eyes were blurry and he couldn't make out the stranger's face.

"That's it. Now, why did you do that to that poor fox?" He called out.

The figure approached more quickly and he felt his muscles tense. A flash of lightning flickered behind him, and he saw the figure's face. It looked like a dead person, with rotting skin and open gashes, and horribly misshapen teeth. He felt a twinge of fear before choking out, "Don't come any closer, or I'll kill you!" without a certainty of following through on the threat.

The corpse walked even closer and was moving much faster, growling and snarling. It was less than ten feet from him.

"Don't just stand there, shoot!" Jose urged his brother, now back and extremely confused, but with great urgency.

Marco fired two shots and the corpse fell to the dirt.

"What the **** was that?" He asked.

"I have… no idea" Marco said holding back tears.

"We need to call someone, like the police or something. We have to tell someone!" Jose said, panicking with fear and confusion.

"We can't… In case you forgot, we didn't bring our phones. And even if we did, there's no signal out here."

"Well, we have to go tell someone!" Jose snapped back.

"Alright! Alright already!" Marco managed to quip.

The twins walked to Jose's pick-up truck.

"Son of a b**ch…" Jose said, noticing that all four of his deer were gone.

"We don't have time for that!" Marco exclaimed.

Jose started the truck and drove along the path to the highway. As they drove from the wooded area to the highway entrance/exit, they were in awe at what they saw.

* * *

"Junior, this is Ashley. She's in grade 11, like you." Dan said to his son, who was sitting on tree stump just on the edge of their set-up camp.

"Greg! Martin! Lizzie!" He called, and three children about eight years old each came running over from the bonfire in the centre of camp.

"This is Ashley. She'll be joining us." He turned to Ashley.

"Ashley, these are my boys Greg and Dan Junior," he said, pointing to the oldest and youngest of the group, "and those are their cousins, Martin and Lizzie, they're twins." He added.  
"Everyone say 'Hi Ashley' and make her feel welcome!" He said to the four children, who complied rather reluctantly.  
"Hello, everyone." She replied quietly – more accurately described as 'politely'.

"Oh, and that's my wife Clara" He pointed to a woman who was much stockier than himself or any of the other group members.

"We'll be fixing up a supper shortly. In the meantime, why don't you hand out some apples? It'd be a great ice-breaker." He smiled, not knowing that it was something that she really did not want to do.

Reluctantly, she withdrew four apples from the duffle bag and gave one to each Junior, Greg, Martin and Lizzie before moving along to a group of three women she hadn't yet met.

"Hello!" One of the women greeted her.

"Uhm… Hello" She stammered, "Mr. Whitebrook said that I should give you each one of my apples."

"Well heavens, dear! No need to be shy! Why don't you introduce yourself?" The woman was getting on Ashley's nerves.

"I'm Ashley." She muttered, and handed the woman an apple. She was noticeably the eldest of the group, and quite possibly the most irritating.

"I'm Regina, and these are my daughters Jaime – Christopher's wife… err Dan Sr.'s brother – and Ericka. Ericka just turned twenty-two, so she's probably the closest girl here to your age.

The two women nodded their heads, and gestured for an apple. She was irked by their impoliteness, but gave them each an apple anyway.

She walked to the bonfire, and introduced herself to Clara, who, not so surprisingly, turned down the apple. Ashley rolled her eyes as she walked away.

Ashley looked around for someone else to pitifully introduce herself to, and surrender yet another one of her apples, but couldn't find anyone. Mr. Whitebrook said there were fourteen or fifteen members, but to her count, there were only nine – ten if she included herself.

Dan Sr. walked over to her and said, "I suppose you've realized that there're only nine of us here. That's because my brother – Martin and Lizzie's father, Christopher – is sick. He's inside one of the tents we set up. We've got Rodrigo on guard, with binoculars and one of our two walkie-talkies. He's up there." He pointed to a bluff above her head.

"That only makes eleven. Plus me is twelve." She said, assuming that there more people off elsewhere.

"Sharp you are," Ashley noted here that Mr. Whitebrook was either impressed easily and quite stupid, or very rude – and quite stupid, "Brian, Jared and Hector are out hunting food for us. They have the other walkie."

"Hunting? Why can't they just scavenge, like I was?" She asked, peeved at the thought of needless violence, and the taste of meat.

"It's not that easy. In the city, there are more of those walkers than you could even believe. It's bad in the suburbs, too. The only places that have been safe have been the woods, and now they're spreading out. Pretty soon, we're going to have to move somewhere." He replied.

"But your orchard… There was just the one. Why couldn't we stay there? There's plenty of fruit for food." She asked.

"The thing is that the orchard is right next to farm… so. Luckily those things have been distracted by our cattle, but they're everywhere. It won't be long before they run out of food at the farm and head back towards the orchard." He explained.

It was a terrible predicament, indeed, and, to make matters worse, a headache began to pound in her skull. She excused herself and sat on the now vacant stump, sitting, facing the fire.

She had taken just a moment to relax when a young man, not much older than her, emerged from the woods, panting and running.

Dan Sr. approached him, and asked, "What's going on? Where are the others?"

The man, short of breath, said "It got Hector! He got bit"

"What about Jared? Why didn't you use the walkie?"

"Hector had it, and he dropped it. But we gotta go! Now! There's too many of them! We have to go now!" He shouted.

"Calm down!" Dan Sr. ordered. "Tell me, how many."

"I don't know… thirty? Fifty? I didn't count. There were too many. They got Hector by surprise, but they're not close enough. I didn't think using a gun would be the right method." The man, whom Ashley assumed was Brian, was nearly hysterical with his insistence on leaving.

"Not close enough? You idiot! You could've killed them further away from camp! They'll definitely come this way if they see the fire!" He said, angrily.

"But that would have just drawn more!" Brian cried, frantic.

Ashley observed in silence at the disarray that had fallen over the camp. The little ones were fussing and the women were shrieking, all of which wasn't helping anything or anyone, and actually served as nothing but a great nuisance to her and adding even more chaos to the events unfolding before her.

"Yeah! But not near camp! Now, when we're forced to defend our camp, a thousand million more will come crawling out of God knows where to right mother******g here! You idiot!" Dan Sr.'s nasty temper was beginning to make itself known.

"Defend? No, we need to run! Fight or flight, we fight – we lose. We have time to run, but we need to go now!" Brian yelled back at Dan Sr.

From the bluff above, a previously unseen elderly man shouted down, "I hate to interrupt, but we've got trouble!" He shouted.

Just down the road, not even a quarter of a mile away, a hoarde of walkers approached towards the camp, with the group members in complete pandemonium.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**


End file.
